As It's Meant To Be
by PwnedByPineapple
Summary: Briefly follows the relationship between America and England, post-Revolutionary War to present day. History-based. No pairings.
1. 1783 to 1794

**Extra Notes | Written for this past Fourth of July. Broken up into several parts because the accompanying historical explanations take up quite a bit of room. Can't guarantee 100% historical accuracy here, either. Not USUK. Recommended listening: "The Cave" by Mumford and Sons.**

* * *

><p><strong>{ 1783 } The Treaty of Paris<strong>

The glory of gaining his independence has dimmed considerably since the surrender that informally ended the war, and America can think about nothing but a cold, rainy day before that. He still wonders why England didn't shoot him; after all, doesn't England hate him? But he can't, he cried, and rarely has America ever seen England moved to such emotion. But how could he not hate America when America beat him? England does not take losing well, he never has, and this was more than losing a war. America is so confused, doesn't know how he can both celebrate and mourn and worry all at the same time, and he doesn't know why he finds it so hard to hate England even after all that England did to him.

Hate or not? That is the question.

He can't tell, not even when England is right before him. The older nation is incredibly tense; America can see it in the way he stands, much too rigid even for him, with all his muscles coiled and tight. But there is nothing of Arthur, absolutely nothing of anything in England's face. He is so controlled that he makes America nervous, and America almost wishes that France and Spain had not exited the room for this one last thing.

_he hates me he hates me he hates me_

Does it matter? America is free now; he never has to care about what England says again. He is _not_ England's little brother anymore, and he still remembers the wonderful feeling of liberation and snapping threads he felt with the creation and signing of the Declaration, that document that he reveres so deeply. He can still taste freedom, so sweet and new and strange and glorious, and he knows that he is his own person and his own nation now, no matter how hard the road threatens to be.

How then, can he experience that and yet still, on some level, long for England to even _look_ at him the way America knows him best?

"Well?" England snaps and drags America from his thoughts. "Is it to your liking?"

America's face darkens, and he draws himself up just a little more. Two can play the same game, and it doesn't matter how conflicted America feels on the inside - that is Alfred, and right now he needs to be America alone, representing the people who fought so hard to free him. He nods once. "It's fine," he says, and it is. He isn't going to push anything more in regards to their agreement, because he's learned a little of what makes England tick, and it is still rather unnerving to be confronted with an England who is so emotionless.

Now all that's left is the acknowledgement, something America has been both yearning for and dreading. It is the very last link, the one that America can only feel faintly, but it is still there, standing in the way of the absolute freedom he wants so badly. His hands are trembling ever so slightly with anticipation. He wonders what it's going to feel like.

"Do you acknowledge me as my own nation?" he asks.

He hadn't thought it possible, but England becomes even more impassive. The few seconds between America's question and the all-important answer are slow and painful; he can feel them crawl by.

And then, "I do," comes out somewhere between an angry statement and a whisper, and America feels that last thread snap, unraveling between them. It isn't like the Declaration or the surrender; it's quieter and does not demand attention, but he is riveted all the same. He closes his eyes and exhales slowly, still shaking. A small smile dances across his face, and when he opens his eyes, he sees a brief scowl cross England's. Because it is as much a relief to finally garner a reaction as it is to be free of his once older brother, America lets his smile widen and finds shameful satisfaction in the fact that England is unable to regain his earlier composure.

"Are we done here?" England demands, and America nods again.

"We are," he says shortly. "Go back home." This last comes out brief and harsh and not like he intended, but neither of them has been able to speak civilly to the other for a long time.

England's eyes narrow, and it seems like there is something more he wants to say, but he doesn't. Instead, he turns on his heel and stalks away, never once sparing a backward glance. America watches him, and the brief vindictive feeling that overcame him starts to recede. Once again, the side of him that is Alfred wants to have a say, and two words very nearly slide from his mouth.

_big brother_

But he won't say it, he won't call England back, because England is no longer that to him and to pretend otherwise is to fool himself. It doesn't matter what America thought he saw, doesn't matter that he could have sworn he glimpsed pain and confusion just like his own in those green eyes.

Their bonds are broken, and that's just the way it is.

* * *

><p>Ben finds him there still, in that sparsely decorated room away from all politics and people, the place outside of written treaties and signatures that made final the break between America and England, regardless of ratification. America is standing there listlessly, listening to the wind outside the window. He only stirs when Ben's hand comes to rest on his shoulder.<p>

"Are you all right?" the man asks softly, concerned.

America sighs and lifts his head, turning around to face his friend. "I will be," he says and immediately changes tune. "Let's go have a quick drink. We should celebrate, right?" He puts on a smile and attempts to gently tug Ben out the door to do just that, but Ben sees right through it. He always has.

"You don't have to," Ben says. "I can't pretend to understand how this feels for you, but you don't have to feign anything for me, Alfred."

America returns the earlier gesture and places a hand briefly on Ben's shoulder in gratitude. "I know that," he said. "But I need to move on, don't I? I'm happy, I really am. C'mon, let's go find Jay and Adams and have a drink." He smiles again and leaves the room, and Ben follows slowly, pondering the young man, the entity that is the United States of America, and that smile that would appear entirely genuine to anyone else.

* * *

><p><strong>{ 1794 } The Jay Treaty<strong>

It's been ten years since America's seen that face, ten years that he's had to build his own identity away from that of his once-brother's, and he wonders what he's supposed to feel. Ten years isn't long, particularly not for a new nation; he's seen over a hundred and fifty himself, just as a colony. And even that isn't long compared to the face that confronts him, that he hasn't seen personally in ten years, that he wishes would show even a _little _emotion.

Still... all he can feel right now is resentment.

"You must see that siding with France won't benefit you," England says, all business and propriety and rigidity, with a face that _still_ won't show emotion even though it's been _ten_ years. "I'm still your most lucrative trading partner, and neither of us wants that to change. Am I correct?"

He's always liked delivering veiled threats. He's always fighting with France, too. America sighs to himself. He can feel a headache pulsing, courtesy of the political division between his people. Some favor France; others favor England. As for Alfred, well... he doesn't know what to think or who to favor. He can't let his personal feelings interfere in his decisions, not when he's still so young as his own nation, and he only wants what's best for his people. But things are so damn confusing sometimes, and America has always put at least _some_ faith in his own emotions.

The only reason England has come to visit him is to prevent him from siding with France. That stings, but he pushes it aside, shoves that particular piece of resentment into a corner of his mind. Instead, he latches on to a real reason for anger, something that has riled his people up, the thing that pisses him off the most.

"That's rich, coming from you," he says; there's no way he's going to leave this subject quiet, not when England comes with these demands and expects to be treated with respect. Respect, his ass. "You've been taking my citizens against their will into your damn Navy! You bastard - that's an act of war all on its own!"

"If you want war, you'll have it," England says bluntly, deathly cold and serious.

It's empty on both sides. England's reason for coming is to _avoid_ having another opponent like America. And America - as much as he hates to admit it, even to himself, he isn't ready for another war with England. He knows exactly what he can get out of a treaty with England, and the most important thing is time. If war with England is to come, he needs time to become stronger.

And though he'll never, ever say it out loud, if America _has_ to make a bet between England and France... all of his money goes on England.

"I want you out of my territory," he says abruptly. "Your soldiers have been occupying areas around the Great Lakes, and I want them gone."

"Done," says England, narrowing his eyes. "Anything else?"

"You better make damn sure you win your war."

"That would be easier with a little more economic support."

"Fine. I'll mention that to my boss."

"Is that it?"

"The impressments... I want them to stop. _Now._"

"Impossible," England says shortly, and his glare cuts off America's immediate protests. "Are _you_ the one fighting France? I think not."

America is seething. It's amazing how easily England can rile him right now. He wants nothing more than to punch the smug bastard in the face for the injustices done to his people, but he controls himself. He has to think about what's best for the rest of his people, personal feelings aside.

War _has_to wait... at least until he is ready.

"Done," he says and hates it.

"Done."

And that's that. Sometimes it amazes him how easily they can say a few words, when their people feel the need to spell things out in intricate detail and play games with pretty sentences. But while humans can more easily bring together politics and country with their own emotions, their own relationships, nations cannot.

It doesn't matter what a nation personally feels. All that matters is what's best.

And so, beneath all that resentment and anger, America wonders why it is so painful to watch England leave again, to watch that back that never once turns around once it's completed its business. Because that's all America is to England - business, because in the end, emotions aren't worth a damn.

* * *

><p><strong><span>Historical Notes<span> |  
><strong>

**The Treaty of Paris:  
><strong>The Treaty of Paris in 1783 formally ended the American Revolution and recognized the United States as an independent country away from Britain. In case you didn't realize it, the 'Ben' Alfred is talking to is Benjamin Franklin, who was one of the people present at the signing of the treaty. I imagine he and Alfred would have been good friends. The Jay and Adams mentioned are John Jay and John Adams, the two other Americans also present.

**The Jay Treaty:  
><strong>When Britain went to war with France, there was also tension between Britain and America over several issues, including the impressments of American sailors into the Royal Navy and some disputes left over from the Treaty of Paris. The Jay Treaty was signed so that war would not take place. Britain did not want America siding with France at that time. America wanted more normal trade relations with Britain, wanted the British out of territory around the Great Lakes, and knew that they were not economically or militarily ready for another war with Britain. America also wanted impressments to stop, but did not get Britain to agree to that. Also, Americans were politically divided about the Jay Treaty; Federalists favored Britain and Jeffersonians favored France. Most historians agree that the Jay Treaty only postponed war between America and Britain for ten years.


	2. 1812 to 1815

**{ 1812-1815 } The War of 1812**

_{ 1812 – Declaration of War }_

The ocean is roiling with the approach of a summer storm, and it's almost as if it's responding to America's thoughts as it does, churning restlessly, anxiously, angrily. Though it's nothing more than an empty expanse, America imagines that he can see England across the great Atlantic, see England's war.

War, war, war. It's always war, always. How do they not grow sick of it?

_what am I doing?_

But America is the same, and he knows it. He's doing the very same thing, bringing a war to England on two fronts, and he reasons with himself beside that great expanse of ocean, tries to justify what he is unsure of to begin with.

It's as if these past ten years, another ten years, mean absolutely nothing. He'd let himself believe that they were getting along even slightly better, but England still treats him as nothing more than a child. England hasn't learned a damn thing, never stops interfering. He tries to stop America from interacting with France, but if America wants to trade with France, he's damn well going to do just that.

England encourages the Native Americans to cause trouble for America, as if things aren't hard enough in that respect. America doesn't know what to feel when it comes to that, so he pushes it away, buries any confusion and guilt as he always does, and instead focuses on the fact that it's still England who wants trouble for him.

Worst of all, England takes America's citizens and people under America's protection into his thrice-damned Navy, and America is so sick of it that his hands hurt from clenching them so hard. That bastard crosses one too many lines with those actions; England can threaten trade and cause trouble, but if there's one thing America can't stand, it's when England thinks he can fuck with America's people. He's always done that, never given America's people the respect they deserve, and America _hates _it.

How does Canada put up with him? Why doesn't he rebel? America would gladly assist him, would put all of his resources into helping his brother break away from England as well, but Canada refuses. How can he be so loyal to someone like that?

It's confusing, and it hurts, and America absolutely refuses to think of anything other than his growing anger, because there's less pain in that, and right now it consumes him.

Fine. If they want war, he'll give it to them, and he'll _win_. If the only thing that will end this incessant cycle is a second war, then he'll fight it just as hard as the first, even though he knows that it isn't truly necessary.

_{ 1814 – The Burning of Washington }_

A tornado. A fucking _tornado_. That's what drove them out.

America doesn't know whether to laugh or cry. The fiery pain in his chest has dimmed somewhat, but he still aches, and he can still remember how vividly he hurt when his capital was burning.

He'd been the last 'government official' to leave, the very last, unwilling to abandon his figurative heart because he knows England, and he knew exactly what England would do in retaliation for what he did to York. (He ignores the part of him that reminds him that he'd started it, because anger does not allow for any guilt, and the reminder only fuels it.) No one had seen him – no one can see a nation if they don't want to be seen – but he'd seen them, _eating dinner _in the White House. Arrogant English bastards.

And then England – England _himself_– had given the order to set fire to the city.

America knows he'd been stupid and irrational, but he hadn't been able to help the anger that came over him. He hadn't been able to stomach seeing England and Canada, his own brothers, setting fire to _his_ White House. It had come like a heart attack, nearly driving him to his knees, but rage had a way of erasing one's pain.

The other soldiers and officers had long since dispersed to carry out the orders, and the other nations were alone. America had done the impulsive thing. He'd attacked.

Canada had seen him coming first and had shouted a warning, but not before America had tackled England to the ground. He'd been intent on causing the older nation as much pain as possible, and he'd punched with all of the young strength in his body. He'd always been strong, something England used to praise him for, and now he'd turned it against England.

But England had been strong, too, and far too clever, and they'd been locked in a fierce fistfight that'd been less about the war around them and more between the humans inside them. England had thrown America off, using his own punches against him, but America had retaliated with brute force, kicking, punching, just wanting to cause England some measure of pain. It wasn't until Canada had pulled them apart, his eyes wide, that they'd stopped, and before any of them had been able so much as properly look at each other, America had taken off running, cursing his own foolishness, lest any British soldiers arrive.

But he'd gotten out the city easily and caught up with the First Lady, all the while fighting against the pain in his chest from the burning of his capital. He'd barely responded to Dolley's concern, instead recalling every moment of the fight, and all he could see was England deflecting, defending, throwing off America's attacks but never returning them, and he'd been so confused at that moment that he was sure he'd worried the First Lady.

He feels the tornado, too, this time more like a constriction in his chest that limits his breathing the next day, and with it, heavy rains that somewhat ease the burning and put out nearly all the fires. It's the strangest damn thing, and he wonders if it's God or Providence or simply the weather. Whatever it is, it drives the British out and gives him some measure of relief.

Some. His capital is still burned, and when he returns with President Madison, it's rather painful to see the destruction. But it isn't as bad as it could have been – the White House is, for the most part, still standing, as are several others that weren't even touched. Some are already talking about moving the capital to a new location, but America doesn't want to hear that. They'll rebuild, he promises himself; they won't give England the satisfaction of knowing he drove them out.

America just wishes England would see him as his own nation, rather than as his former colony that he still treats like one. That fight was enough to prove just how much England is refusing to see him as anything other than a little boy, and deep down, America knows that he himself isn't helping the matter.

_{ 1815 – The Treaty of Ghent and the Battle of New Orleans }_

The port is bustling, exuberant with news by the time America departs from the ship. America smiles, happy for a moment just to be home and surrounded by his people. He's missed it here; it wasn't the easiest thing, traveling all the way to Ghent to officially end the war. But that is over now, and if the rumors he's already hearing are to be believed, there was another battle fought not that long ago.

That would explain what the conflict he'd felt even after the treaty had been signed. But America doesn't hear the full story until he sits down with his President.

The fighters in New Orleans and the British attackers hadn't known about the treaty in time, and a battle had taken place when the British had tried to seize New Orleans. They'd been repelled valiantly by New Orleans' defenders, who had thus protected the rest of Louisiana. America can't help but feel quiet satisfaction at that and not a little pride. His newest territory is proving to have quite the mettle, which he's already been somewhat aware of after the colorful answer she'd had for France when he'd sold her. She, along with America's soldiers, had fought bravely to defend him and themselves, and he is proud.

But it's only a small comfort compared to the enormous exhaustion he feels, and even his President notices how fake his smile is. America can't help but feel disheartened. He can't really deny it to himself any longer; he knows that this war will ultimately prove to be useless, and he can't stop recalling the look on England's face in Ghent, the one that showed him England was thinking the exact same thing. But barely any words were exchanged between them, and very little was resolved, and it seems that nothing is changed... except for how tired they are of all the fighting and emotion that never gets expressed. For America knows exactly what this war was to the two of them - an expression of pent-up anger and hatred that should never have existed but did.

* * *

><p><strong>One of my favorite time periods. I included the Battle of New Orleans because it involved my state, and it was always one of my favorite things to learn about in Louisiana history.<strong>

**Historical Notes |  
><strong>

**The War of 1812:**  
>The War of 1812 was a war fought between America and Britain and the then-British-colony Canada. It lasted from 1812 to 1815.<p>

_Declaration of War_ -  
>The causes of the war include the continued impressments of American sailors, British interference with American-French trade, and the fact that Britain was stirring up trouble with the Native Americans and hampering American northwestern expansion. In short, Britain was still treating America like a colony, and Americans felt the need to uphold their national honor. What's interesting is that in Britain, there were politicians that were very anti-American, who had put into place policies that reflected this. In 1812, these politicians lost power and their policies were reversed, but not before America had declared war.<p>

_The Burning of Washington_ -  
>The British attacked Washington D.C. in retaliation for the American attack on York. They overwhelmed the American soldiers and marched on Washington, and the government officials in Washington fled. Reportedly, the British commander ate dinner in the abandoned White House and then ordered it and many other buildings to be set on fire. The next day, they continued their burning, but a huge thunderstorm came up out of nowhere and brought with it a tornado that ripped through the center of the city and killed several British soldiers. The rain also put out most of the fires. The British decided to leave the city and did so within in hours, and the President and other officials returned soon after.<p>

The First Lady mentioned is Dolley Madison, who was one of the last to leave as she stayed behind with several slaves to rescue valuables from the White House.

_The Treaty of Ghent and the Battle of New Orleans_ -  
>The Treaty of Ghent officially ended the War of 1812 and was signed in late 1814 in what is now Belgium. Because the news traveled so slow, the Battle of New Orleans as well as a few other skirmishes were fought before anyone knew of the treaty.<p>

Also, it is mostly agreed upon that the War of 1812 was ultimately useless because nothing much was gained or lost, and it didn't really resolve anything.


	3. 1861 to 1914

**{ 1861-1865 } The Civil War**

The two of them are so petty, and both of them know it.

Outright antagonism? Not anymore. It's pretty emotionally draining to always be hating one another, and weariness has a way of making one realize one's own stupidity. But England has never been good at letting go of grudges, and America wonders if maybe he inherited that, too.

His body still aches from the war that split his people apart, and he knows it'll be a long time before he's truly healed. He's tired of thinking about it, tired of everything, and honestly he just wants to sleep. But after the sun sets on a long day of politics and damage assessment, he finds that he can't sleep, and even though he doesn't want to think about _anything_ anymore, his mind drifts from civil war to revolutionary war, and he thinks about England.

He remembers England's anger after America took that one ship, and America remembers defensively pointing out the fact that it was carrying Confederates. It didn't dissolve into a shouting match, thankfully, and America recalls apologizing along with Lincoln... and recalls how much he hated apologizing when it was _clearly _England's fault.

_was it? is it ever his fault? are you always blaming him?_

And then there had been another incident with British ships - this time British-built and British-run ships helping the Confederates, helping America's fiery doppelganger. England had just recently paid by the $15 million for the damage he'd caused with that, but never once had he admitted guilt or apologized, and it made America tired and angry and why is it so hard to be civil, for once?

Petty. That's all they are, and America wonders when he suddenly became mature enough to realize it.

* * *

><p><strong>{ end of the nineteenth century – World War I } The Great Rapprochement<strong>

_{ 1898 – The Spanish-American War }_

It wasn't until America promised to grant Cuba's independence that England ultimately decided on a side, and America tries to tell himself that it's just because England is looking after his own interests. But for England to side with _him_, against the rest of Europe… America definitely hadn't been expecting that.

"But... why?" America finally asks. So he's not that great at holding in his curiosity.

England frowns at him. "Why what?"

"Why would you be on my side?"

England's frown becomes a scowl. "It's certainly not for you," he sniffs. "Do you think I _want_ Spain to remain as competition? This won't benefit him."

Of course it would be that, and nothing else, as long as America doesn't hurt England's commercial interests abroad. But America doesn't fail to notice that there's markedly less tension between them, and he's sure that England is aware of it, too.

And because this makes him bold, America gives England a sarcastic little smile. "Admit it," he says. "You miss me."

England returns with a rude gesture to show America exactly what he thinks of him. "Why would I miss a blathering idiot like you?"

"Who wouldn't? I turned out awesome."

"On the contrary, you turned out exceptionally disappointing."

It's the closest they've ever come to talking about the Revolution _since _the Revolution, and America wonders at that. Maybe England is as tired of arguing and hating as America is. America isn't going to ask, no sir, he's not quite ready to go down to that level yet, and there's still enough tension between them that makes him hesitant.

But it isn't quite as painful as it has been lately, and he feels a lot better than he's felt in a long time.

_{ 1899-1900 – Industrial Exposition }_

It's certainly an... interesting picture, made to represent the growing unity between America and England.

America hadn't been aware of the fact that he and England were female, and he certainly hadn't know that they'd actually stoop to holding hands. The rest of the picture is nice and even has Uncle Sam, but he just can't get over that particular detail.

"I'm so much better-looking than you," he says, as it's about the only comment he can come up with right now.

England doesn't look happy about his female personification - or, more specifically, that his female personification is holding hands with America's. He shakes his head. "Shut your mouth, idiot."

"Why are we girls now?"

England rolls his eyes, as if America should know this by now. "Historically, nations have always been referred to with female connotations. Although we could also be represented by John Bull and Uncle Sam there."

"So either we're women or old guys, all of whom like to hold hands. I'm still better-looking, either way."

"I think you look a little fat," England says waspishly.

It's really weird, bantering like this… almost as weird as the artistic depiction of their progressing cooperation that they're studying. America doesn't know what surprises him more, but he finds that he's okay with both… sort of.

* * *

><p><strong>Yay, less angst! History lesson:<br>**

**The Civil War:**  
>Britain was not much involved in the Civil War, but a British ship carrying Confederates traveling to promote Confederate interests to Britain and France was captured by a Union ship. This was the Trent Affair, and it outraged many British, who actually sent troops to Canada just in case. However, war was unlikely because of Britain's dependence on American grain, and President Lincoln formally apologized.<p>

Another incident involved a British ship that aided the Confederates during the Civil War. Britain eventually paid back $15 million for the damage caused by that ship, but never admitted guilt.

**The Great Rapprochement:**  
>The Great Rapprochement is a term used to describe the growing cooperation between America and Britain in the decades before WWI.<p>

_The Spanish-American War_ -  
>The Spanish-American war was fought mainly over Cuba. Britain at first intended to side with Spain because of potential threat to British commerce, but after America promised to grant Cuba's independence, Britain supported America against most of Europe. The war only lasted four months, and America won, acquiring many of Spain's colonies. America did grant Cuba's independence not long after. The war expanded American influence in world affairs as well.<p>

_Industrial Exposition_ -  
>The picture Alfred and Arthur are looking at is one that can be found on Wikipedia under 'Great Rapprochement', portraying a warming of relations between America and Britain. This is the only thing that I haven't been able to find sources for outside of Wikipedia, so I'm not sure about its accuracy in supposedly representing an Industrial Exposition. However, the picture made me laugh when I saw it, so I wanted to include it as something a bit more lighthearted for these two.<p> 


	4. 1914 to 1946

**{ 1914-1918 } World War I**

America can see how England is weakening, how the war is taking its toll on him, and he's seen the dire situation of England's fleet. They've been meeting in London for a while now, discussing the situation with the admirals and struggling to arrive at a decision, and even though a battle fleet should never, ever be divided, America has just about decided that it should be under these circumstances.

England's been pretty cranky lately – he usually is, in tense situations – and America hopes this will ease him just a little. It's in the company of England and Mayo and Benson and Sims that America quite suddenly voices his opinion.

"Send the ships." Okay, more like an order, really.

Benson raises an eyebrow. "Is this your professional opinion?"

America mollifies his tone just a little bit. He spoke out hastily, bluntly, because he's starting to grow worried about England and about what will happen if his ships _don't_ join up with the other Allies.

"Yeah," he says. "They've barely got any force left. They need it more than we need our caution. What happens if the Allies lose a naval battle, and all it would have taken to win would have been our help? I say we split the fleet."

It's relieving to see that Benson and Mayo seem to have been thinking along the same lines, and Benson claps Alfred on the shoulder. "Who am I to argue with my country?" he says. "I agree."

America can see a slightly grateful and approving look in England's eyes, and he pretends not to notice until at last the admirals have all departed, with Benson making plans to contact the Secretary of the Navy and request the ships. It's then that England nods to him, smiling tiredly.

"Thank you," he says. "This will help."

"I know it will," America says. "I'm not letting you go down, Arthur. Not today."

* * *

><p><strong>{ 1939-1945 } World War II<strong>

_{ 1941 – Lend Lease }_

The transfer of supplies is a massive operation, and although America tries to help, he ends up getting underfoot and is respectfully but firmly shooed away. It reminds him of his real reason for visiting, and he hurries to find England. That isn't too hard; England is in the middle of shouting at some poor guy who did something or the other wrong.

"You're in a worse mood than usual!" America says by way of greeting, and England's victim takes the opportunity to make his escape.

"I'm in the middle of a war, you dolt," England snaps back. "Unlike you."

America grows a little somber. England really is in a worse mood, but even America can hardly blame him. England is practically alone in Europe standing against Germany, and the war is taking its toll on his body. America can see a few bruises, and those are only what's visible; England's too good at hiding whatever wounds he's sustained from the war. And America can tell from England's stance that the older nation probably has a killer headache.

"Here," America says and hands him a bottle of aspirin. "For your headache."

England softens somewhat and accepts the medicine gratefully. "Part of your supplies delivery?" he asks.

"Yeah, well… you shouldn't be alone in this. Not with a headache."

England's fingers wrap tightly around the bottle. "Thank you, America."

_{ 1941 – Aftermath of Pearl Harbor }_

America can feel England's eyes studying his arm, the large gash that's been neatly wrapped in bandages but yesterday bled profusely from the attack on Pearl Harbor. But England doesn't say anything about it, only looks up at America, grave.

"Staying out doesn't really suit you, does it?" the older nation says.

America is beyond pissed, but he's controlled. "I'm going to kick their asses," he practically growls. "No warning, England. _No fucking warning._"

"I know," England says softly. "That's war, I'm afraid."

"I always come late, don't I?"

"Doesn't matter now. All that matters is that we're working together."

They shake hands, a simple show of alliance now that America has officially declared war. It was inevitable that he come to England first to do this, and it feels good. "That we are," he says, and though the implications of war are heavy, there's something comforting about having England here, beside him.

* * *

><p><strong>{ 1946 } Churchill's Sinews of Peace Address<strong>

"Quite a 'special relationship', wouldn't you say?" America says, in perfect imitation of England's accent.

"Oh, shut it," England replies, an automatic answer to any mockery of his accent. America grins and turns Churchill's speech over in his head, thinking about it. He and England had both been present for it, though of course America hadn't been able to resist deliberately poking England at certain parts. It had taken all of his willpower not to provide commentary as well, but England had threatened to rearrange his face if he so much as whispered a word, and America had a feeling that he meant it. The poking had more than made up for it, though, much to America's amusement and England's irritation.

Still… America had paid attention, more than England thinks he had. He is more than a little worried by what Churchill had brought to light, something he himself has been wondering about since the end of the war. He'd hoped for peace, that the war would be the last for a long time, but it seems that is not to be the case.

'Iron curtain'. An interesting way of putting it. Almost as interesting as 'special relationship'.

"We're going to stick together, right?" he asks all of a sudden.

England looks curiously at him. "You heard Churchill."

"Just making sure you're okay with it. Must be intimidating to hang around a hero like me all the time."

England snorts in derision. "Don't go getting a big head just because you've gotten unhealthily powerful. I'm only sticking around you because you're a better option than, say, Russia."

"Oh, really? And what about our 'special relationship', hmm?"

England rolls his eyes. "Is that _all_ you heard?"

"Nope! I just think it's funny."

England doesn't, or at least he finds America's amusement just as irritating as the poking. But maybe there's some truth to it, because for the first time in a long time, America thinks about how far they've come, and it gives him some small comfort in the face of an uncertain future.

* * *

><p><strong>The term 'special relationship' always makes me laugh when put into Hetalia context. History time!<strong>

**World War I:**  
>When America finally entered World War I, there was some debate about sending battleships to help Britain's struggling Grand Fleet. However, the situation for the Fleet was dire, and America eventually sent Division Nine of the American navy to boost it. The mentioned Benson and Mayo are American admirals who traveled to London to discuss this with the mentioned Sims, a British admiral.<p>

**World War II:**  
><em>Lend Lease:<em>  
>After the fall of France, Britain was the only European power actively at war against Nazi Germany. Americans were sympathetic towards the British, but were not involved because of the Neutrality Acts passed after World War I. President Roosevelt came up with the idea of Lend-Lease, in that America would send supplies to Britain and the other Allies without become actively engaged in the war itself. This was nine months before Pearl Harbor.<p>

_Pearl Harbor:_  
>After the Japanese launched an attack against a US military base in Hawaii without warning, America joined World War II. Winston Churchill, the Prime Minister of Britain at the time, and President Roosevelt were particularly close after this attack, which I translated into a brief but meaningful meeting between Alfred and Arthur as well.<p>

**Churchill's Sinews of Peace Address:**  
>The speech delivered by Winston Churchill at Westminster College in Fulton, Missouri, is one of his most famous. It addressed the threat of the growing Soviet Union and communism, which he referred to as an 'iron curtain' and also pointed out the 'special relationship' between America and Britain, the foremost English-speaking countries in the world and the biggest promoters of democracy and human rights. The term 'special relationship' has been used ever since to describe the unusually close relationship between the two countries.<p> 


	5. 1957 to 2001

**{ 1957 } The Suez Crisis and Aftermath**

America knows that England is mad at him now, and he tries to reason with himself. After all, the attack on Egypt could have escalated into something that none of them wanted, right? And why were England and France even working together in the first place? They can barely stand each other!

But America can see that England is weaker than he used to be, no longer an empire, and America realizes that this whole business didn't help. In fact, it probably made things worse, weakening his own allies while strengthening Russia and his Soviets.

"Are you going to stay mad at me forever?" America asks England the next time they meet.

"I just might!" England says, but a moment later he lets out a frustrated sigh and rubs his forehead. "It's hard to stay mad at you, damn it," he mutters, and America barely catches that.

It's strange not seeing England as strong as he used to be. Of course, America's gotten big as of late, but England's also growing smaller, losing many of his colonies, and America's starting to become aware of the difference between them. It's weird; he's never remembered England being quite as small before.

But it's not like he still looks up to England or anything, and it's not surprising, because nations can't remain strong forever, right? America tells himself that and eventually apologizes in private, and England doesn't really stay mad for long, to his relief.

* * *

><p><strong>{ 1982 } The Falklands War<strong>

It isn't even really a _war_.

America is rather bemused by the fight between England and Argentina. They're both determined to have the Falklands and the other islands, and no amount of mediation that America tried to do could dissuade them. Eventually, he had given up, but of course he'd sided with England, and now he finds himself giving England supplies and logistical advice.

"If you're going to do this, at least have the balls to declare war," he tells England one time when they meet very briefly.

As he always does when he's in a hurry and doesn't have the time to come up with a retort, England gives America the bird, and America is left shaking his head in wonder.

* * *

><p><strong>{ 1988 } Lockerbie Bombing<strong>

It's one of the few times America's seen England and Scotland actually getting along without complaint, but it's not surprising.

America pulls England aside in the midst of the chaos and makes him stop for a moment. "Are you alright?" he asks.

England nods. "I'm fine."

"And Scotland?"

"He will be."

All of them had felt the bombing of Flight 103 when it had occurred only days earlier, although Scotland had taken it the hardest because it had crashed into his country. But American citizens had been on there as well, making up the majority, and America isn't the only one concerned.

"What about you?" England demands.

America can feel his dead people, a small wound on the back of his hand that is nonetheless painful. "I'll heal," he says.

They're silent for a moment, out of respect for those who died, but America's eyes narrowed and angry – not least because the both of them had received prior warnings of something like this occurring. "Has the investigation started?" he asks.

England nods. "It'll take some time, but we're going to find whoever did this, I promise you."

"My people are ready to help," America says. "We'll do this together."

He doesn't admit it, but when he'd felt the crash and heard the news, it had scared him - he hadn't known the details, and he'd been afraid that something worse had happened to England. A quick phone call had eased that fear, but he relaxes just a little bit now, finally able to confirm with his own eyes that England and Scotland bear no lasting wounds.

* * *

><p><strong>{ 2001 } 911**

After Canada, England is the first one there, all concern and rage and worry.

America's head is thoroughly bandaged, and he insists that he's fine, but he's betrayed by his shaking hands that don't want to stay still, and the fact that he can't really walk right now for dizziness. Canada tries to get him to rest, but it isn't until England literally pushes him into a chair and threatens to knock him out that America finally gives up. He knows England doesn't really mean it; the older nation is just worried, and he can't really do anything besides worry, and that makes him angry.

"Turn that off," England tells Canada, gesturing to the TV that's broadcasting continuous coverage of the destruction.

"No!" America says, almost surging out of his seat. "Leave it on. If I c-can't be there physically, then I have n-no right not to watch. I need to b-be with my people."

England places his hands on America's shoulders, glaring as he makes America sit back down. "You're in no condition to do anything right now, and this will only make it worse." However, he doesn't make a move to turn the TV off and neither does Canada, and they sit there in silence for a while, watching.

America can feel one of England's hands still on his shoulder, offering the only support he can right now, and he's grateful. Occasionally, they get a call, and it's usually Canada who answers. All the calls are from concerned nations, and eventually France shows up with Japan, but America doesn't move from his seat until some of the dizziness has passed and the shaking subsides. And England doesn't move either, staying beside him, and America is far more grateful than he can express for that.

* * *

><p><strong>There was tons more history I could have explored, because the 20th century and the past decade is <em>full<em> of it - like the Gulf War and the War on Terror, which I kind of (read: _really_) wanted to write about. However, I didn't have enough time to do the research, and I still don't. Thus ends the history portion, although there is one more chapter that's not history-based, merely some interaction between Alfred and Arthur in a vaguely present day setting.**

**The Suez Crisis:**  
>Britain, France, and Israel moved against Egypt for numerous reasons, the foremost of which was conflict over the Suez Canal, which Britain and France wanted control of. However, America feared the Soviet Union interfering on Egypt's side and causing the war to escalate, and the US threatened economic sanctions against Britain and France that would have badly damaged their economies. They were forced to withdraw. It was later realized that in doing so, America's allies were considerably weakened and the Soviet Union grew stronger. However, the incident didn't really damage relations between America and Britain all that badly. The government in Britain that emerged after the Suez Crisis hastened decolonization, and it was during the following time period that Britain lost many of its colonies and stopped acting as an empire.<p>

**The Falklands War:**  
>Argentina and Britain had a dispute over the Falkland Islands and the South Georgia and South Sandwich Islands. No war was officially declared, and the 'war' lasted only 74 days. America tried to mediate, but eventually ended up supporting Britain. I wanted to include this because I found it kind of interesting, not to mention amusing - mostly the mental image of Alfred trying to make peace between Arthur and Argentina and just giving up after a while.<p>

**Lockerbie Bombing:**  
>The Pan American Worldways' Flight 103 heading from London to New York exploded over Lockerbie, Scotland, killing everyone on board, including both Americans and Britons. It was eventually determined that a Libyan was behind the bombing, although Libya never formally admitted to it until 2003. Also, it was just recently discovered that Muammar Gaddafi personally ordered the attack.<p>

**9/11:**  
>After the attack on 911, the world reaction was large, and Britain was an especially strong supporter of America during this time.


	6. Present Day

**{ Present Day } Fourth of July**

America's people are celebrating tonight; he can feel their excitement, can feel a brief unity that brings them together today - national pride, pride in _him_, their country. He loves this day more than any other, because this is when he feels closest to all of them, and he wishes he could tell each and every one of them how much he loves them, even the ones who don't love him.

His birthday party had been earlier in the day, and all of his nation-friends had been there. It had been like any other year, with Italy and France bringing the food, Japan providing the entertainment, Russia congratulating him on surviving another year, and a general mess of mayhem but good fun. And just like every year, the party had ended early enough for America to watch fireworks with his people, and just like every year, there had been a notable absence among the guests that America was about fed up with.

He still goes to see the fireworks, but he's thinking of the one person that never attends his birthday parties, and by the time the fireworks are over, he's already planning a trip. The next day, he arrives across the Atlantic Ocean and walks into England's house without knocking.

England's definitely got a hangover, because he glares at America with bleary eyes and demands to know why America is barging into his house. But America doesn't answer that question, only folds his arms and returns the glare, full of youthful indignation.

"You need to stop living in the past," he tells England.

England rubs his forehead. "America, what the bloody hell are you ta-"

"You know exactly what I'm talking about. Why do you think you've got a hangover, huh? You need to get over it."

"Don't take that tone with me."

"I'll take whatever tone I damn well please." America _needs_ to get his point across, because his birthday is always the best day of the year, but it's still never as good as it should be without England there. "Look, I broke away from you _two hundred freakin' years ago_. Get over it." Okay, so maybe he's not so good at being gentle with his points. But this is ridiculous, and he's going to make England see his point, one way or another.

"I _am_ over it, you twat." England is sitting at the table, scowling, with his head in his hands. "Just because I don't want to attend some stupid birthday party doesn't mean..."

"_Arthur_," America says. "Stop. You can't keep drinking yourself sick every Fourth of July. You know why? Because I want you there with me to celebrate. You need to celebrate the fact that somehow you did a good job of raising me, because I've made it this far, haven't I?"

A long, awkward silence follows, and America can't see England's face because of the angle England's hands suddenly shifted to. After a while, when America is starting to grow antsy, England whispers, "You really think I did a good job?"

America sighs. For however smart England can be, he really is hopeless at times. "_Of course_ you did," he says. "You just... didn't know when to let go." It's a really obvious thing, but America suddenly realizes he's never told England this before. Not since before the Revolution has he openly stated if he was grateful. But hey, he's not really the type to think about that sort of thing, he reasons with himself defensively. He... just assumed it was obvious after a time.

Apparently not. England still refuses to look at him, but America can hear the older nation's breath hitching slightly. Whatever's left of the alcohol is probably still getting to him, or else he's just emotionally drained from the night before.

America rolls his eyes. "Okay, you need to get some sleep," he says. "C'mon..."

He steps forward and takes England's arm, and England stumbles to his feet, wincing at the light. As America helps him to the couch, England still won't meet his eyes.

"Alfred," the older nation mumbles. "I'm sorry... for not being there... for your birthday."

"No," America says, sighing. "I'm sorry for being an insensitive bastard. I can't help it, y'know?"

This produces the desired result, as England smiles a little bit, and America deposits him on the couch. "You just... lay down. I'll go get some Tylenol or something."

England nods his thanks and covers his eyes once more, muttering about lights and what exactly he'd like to do to them right now. America shakes his head and leaves the room, hunting down some headache medicine and thinking about birthdays, family, and independence.

* * *

><p><strong>And there you go. I hope you enjoyed reading. ^-^<strong>


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